I laugh. I carry a lot of junk on my key ring. It must look like a pretty crazy contraption to him.
He holds up my house key. “This is some kind of key, but what are these other things?”
I grab the little stuffed elephant. “Meet Charles Xavier. I got him in junior high. Long story, that one.”
“And this?” he asks, touching my mini flashlight.
“Push that little button there, and see for yourself.”
He does, and the flashlight glows white and then flashes red. Lawrence startles and stares with amazement. It’s pretty adorable.
“Do I even want to know what this one does?” he asks, pointing to the pepper spray.
“Actually, no. You don’t. All I’ll say is that it’s a weapon of sorts. Meant to protect me from bad guys.”
He turns an awed look at me. “Fascinating.”
“Trust me, there are way cooler things in the future than this piddly little key ring.”
“What kinds of things?” he asks. “Describe them to me.”
I waggle a finger at him. “No more future talk. We’re in a precarious situation as it is. Let’s not push our luck.” I sit up and pull my fingers through my hair, which must look like a mangled sloth perched on my head. “Speaking of which, I think we should plan our next three days.”
Lawrence sighs. “Back to business.”
“Um, yes. We don’t know how things are going to play out on Saturday. So today and tomorrow is our last, safe, forty-eight-hour period. We have to make it count.”
“Make it count?” Lawrence repeats, looking at me with a hopeful smile.
I shove him. “You know what I mean.”
“Killjoy,” he says glumly.
I start gathering the papers from last night. “Is everything still going as planned with the party Saturday? Nothing out of the ordinary?”
He starts to shake his head but stops. His brow furrows. He’s quiet, as if he’s wrestling with an idea.
“Lawrence?” I touch his arm. “What is it?”
“Well…something happened.”
Fear unfolds in me. “What?”
“It didn’t have anything to do with Cooper Enterprises.”
“Okay. So tell me.”
Lawrence shakes his head. “It seems like madness to even suggest.”
“Spit it out, Lawrence. You’re scaring me here.”
“See if you can learn anything about the Cartelli family from New York. Lower East Side.”
What’s with the sudden shifty eyes? “Okay…”
He releases a slow sigh. “See if the name Fay Cartelli comes up.”
“Fay Cartelli. Got it.” He doesn’t look at me. I draw a little swirl in the sand, trying not to feel suspicious. “So, who is she?”
His cheeks flush with color. “Have I never mentioned her?”
“You haven’t.”
“She’s a…friend of mine.”
My heart drops. “A friend.”
He seems uncomfortable. “Essentially… Perhaps a bit more.”
I want him to be joking, but I can tell he’s not. I try desperately to keep calm. “Oh.”
“Cassandra, it’s not like it sounds.”
“So, she’s not your girlfriend?”
“No…not exactly.”
“What does that mean? ‘Not exactly.’”
He rubs the bridge of his nose. This time, his silence tells me everything I need to know. I push to my feet. Lawrence jumps up after me.
“I meant every word I said last night. I love you, Cassandra.”
I shake my head but don’t dare speak.
“Fay means nothing to me,” he says. “She never did. And once I met you, she meant even less.”
“But that didn’t stop you from dating her?”
“Don’t be this way. Please, Cassandra. I never gave myself to her. You have to believe me.”
I can’t even look at him. “I need some time.”
He sighs. “Time is the one thing we don’t have.”
Bitterness rises in my throat. “You think I don’t know that?” It’s taking every ounce of my strength not to cry. “I have to go. My mom will be up soon.”
“Cassandra, please.” He sounds miserable. “Will you come back?”
I turn back to the house without responding.
“I’ll wait here,” he says. “All day if I have to.”
Back in my room, I crawl into bed and curl up in a ball beneath the blanket, body and spirit spent. I lie there for at least an hour, eyes shut, heart aching with each beat. But sleep won’t come. It’s probably just as well.
Eventually, the clanking sounds of breakfast being cooked drift up into my room. I have no intention of going downstairs, but the longer I lie here, the more I realize that I can’t risk getting on Mom’s bad side. I slink down to the kitchen and sit zombielike through breakfast with Mom, Eddie, and Frank. They’re discussing a sailing trip up the coast for the weekend. I feel like my insides are being ripped apart. I want to be furious with Lawrence, but I may only have two days left with him. Do I really want to waste them being angry? Last night was very special. Some people never get the chance to have that kind of romance. I know that. I can’t let my insecurities taint that. But to think of Lawrence being with another girl… It makes me physically exhausted.
After breakfast, I drag myself upstairs and collapse on my bed. I get under my blanket again. Part of me wants to stay here the rest of the day and feel sorry for myself. But thankfully, the rest of me knows I can’t do that. It’s already nearly eleven. The day is slipping away. Every minute I waste in this bed is a minute I could be spending with Lawrence.
Rolling onto my back, I press my hands over my eyes, wishing I could push the knowledge of this Fay girl out of my head. But I can’t. So it’s time to grow up and deal instead of sulking about it. Lawrence is all that matters now.
I grab my laptop and flop it on my stomach. I enter “Fay Cartelli” into the search engine. It’s a long shot, I know.
Sure enough, I find the website for a graphic designer in Dallas and some random girl’s Facebook page. Pursing my lips to the side, I try “Fay Cartelli 1925.”
After sifting through five pages of search results, I find nothing. I try at least ten more variations of her name, adding different words with no success.
And then I search: “Cartelli Lower East Side New York 1925.” On the second page, I notice a site dedicated to New York during Prohibition. It’s right there.
The Cartellis. A prominent crime family from the Lower East Side.
The hair on the back of my neck prickles. I stare at the screen. It can’t be possible. There are probably dozens of Cartellis on the Lower East Side. The likelihood of one of them being related to this Fay chick is astronomically small.
But then…what if? We’re dealing with a murder here. Last time I checked, murder is kind of the mob’s specialty. Of course, you have to wonder why they would bother killing a seventeen-year-old living in ritzy Massachusetts.
Unless, of course, he was cheating on their daughter. The thought slams me right in the chest.
Am I the reason Lawrence is killed?
Chapter 26
Cassandra
“You can’t think of it that way, Cassandra. You’ll drive yourself crazy.”
It’s ironic that Lawrence is the one with less than forty-eight hours to live, but he’s trying to calm my panic attack.
“I knew we shouldn’t have messed with time,” I say, unable to draw a good breath. “I said it from the very beginning. You mess with the past, and you screw up the future. Once we realized what was going on, we should have left each other alone.”
He grips my hands. “We have no way of knowing if Fay’s family is even responsible for my death. You could be panicking for n
othing.”
“They’re mob, Lawrence. An Italian mob family. Have you ever seen The Godfather? Do you not understand how these people operate? They kill at the drop of a hat. You said Fay was mad when you guys parted?”
He scratches the back of his neck reluctantly. “Yes.”
“And why was she mad? Because you told her about me?”
“Well no, but she did find out about you…in a way. I can’t imagine her actually trying to have me killed for it.”
“Not her. But what about her big, mean, mobster daddy? Her creepy brother who was watching you?”
I massage my temples while Lawrence ponders the idea. As if things weren’t scary enough, pressing him for details only makes me freak out more. I feel like I’m spinning out of control.
“I should warn Ned,” Lawrence says. “All this time he’s thought Fay was a Crest Harbor girl. Rich, clean-cut, one of us. He has no idea who she really is. If he knew, he’d never have thought to…” The color in his face drains away.
“What’s wrong?”
The words fall slowly from his lips. “We were supposed to be married, Fay and I. Ned had it all arranged.”
I sit back, reeling from the revelation. “Wow.”
He grabs my hand. “Please don’t be hurt, Cassandra. It was never official. And it wasn’t ever my idea. I didn’t even realize it was Ned’s plan until a week or two ago.”
“You don’t want to marry her?”
“No. I told you, I never loved Fay. My uncle’s been pushing the relationship since the beginning.”
“Well, I’d say your uncle has some pretty crappy judgment.”
“But that’s just it. He doesn’t realize who Fay really is. When he finds out, he’s bound to break off the agreement. Maybe the mob goes after Ned.”
I put the pieces of the theory in place. “And you get caught in the crossfire.”
Lawrence exhales, scratching a hand through his hair. “We don’t know anything for sure.”
“Yes, we do,” I say. Each word burns in my throat. “We know that if you hadn’t met me, you’d be safe. I’m the reason you’re killed. It’s my fault. I never should have come back to the beach. I knew what happened to Travis, but I just didn’t care—”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Of course it is!” I shout. Then, breathing hard, I stagger back. “All this talk about fate and destiny? It’s crap. I just convinced myself of it because I wanted to feel justified in coming to see you. I wanted a reason to ignore the warnings that were clearly laid out for me. I’ve been selfish, and now look what’s happened.”
Lawrence takes my face in his hands. “Don’t talk like this. I won’t hear it.”
I shake my head, breaking from his grip, and he takes me in his arms.
“Look at me.”
“No.”
“Cassandra.”
I feel heavy with the burden of everything that’s happening. I just want to run away. Cry. Scream.
“I would never take back a moment of our time together, Cassandra. Not a single breath. Not a single word. Meeting you has been the greatest thing to ever happen to me.”
Tears burn behind my eyes. Squeezing them away, I press my lips to his. He hooks his arms around me. Our kiss pulses with longing and fear and hope. When we break apart, I press my forehead to his.
“I’m scared,” I whisper.
He strokes the hair from my face. “So am I. But now is the time for courage. We know so much more than when we started.”
“But we still don’t know how to keep you safe.”
“We know about Cooper Enterprises. And Fay’s family. That’s big. You better believe I’m going to have my eyes wide open on Saturday night.”
My stomach twists at the mere mention of it. “You’re planning on going to your uncle’s party?
“Am I supposed to stay in my room all day?”
“No! You’re supposed to get in your car and drive as far away from here as possible.”
“That might save me on Saturday, but what about the next day? The next week? Don’t you think they’ll come looking for me? The only way to stop my death from happening is to face the murderers, whoever they are, head on.”
He’s completely serious. A surge of unexpected anger rushes through me.
“Are you crazy? Do you want to be murdered, Lawrence? Do you honestly think you can go up against the mob and not end up with a bullet in your head?”
A coldness settles in his eyes. “You have no idea what it feels like to know that you may die in the morning. Do you know how much thought I’ve given this?”
“Of course I do! Because it’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about, same as you.”
“It’s not the same,” he insists.
“How can you say that?”
He shakes his head, turning from me in frustration.
“You’re trying to be brave!” I shout. “But you’ll just get yourself killed!”
“If I run away like a coward, it will be my uncle who dies. He has no idea about Fay or even about Cooper Enterprises. He’ll throw his big, happy party and wind up dead.”
His eyes are red and glassy with pain. The sight fills me with the desire to hold him and kiss his tears away. But I don’t. The tension of our argument crackles between us.
“I care about you, Lawrence.”
He scoffs. “Well, I happen to care about my uncle.”
“I’m not saying—”
“I know exactly what you’re suggesting—”
“I can’t lose you. I’d never forgive myself. I’d never get over it.”
“Cassandra—”
“No! I won’t calm down.” It feels like someone is sitting on my chest. I can’t breathe. “I’m trying to save your life, Lawrence. Promise me you won’t go to the party.”
He sighs heavily and then pulls me against him. Feeling his arms around me is like oxygen. I press my face to his neck. I hate that we’re spending our last day arguing. It’s all wrong.
“I can promise you that I’ll be careful,” Lawrence says. “This is my life and my uncle’s life on the line here.”
He touches my chin and lifts my face so I’ll meet his eyes.
The sound of a sharp exhale makes us both look to the bushes with a start.
Brandon stands on the beach, staring at us with a look of utter betrayal.
Chapter 27
Cassandra
Brandon looks like he’s been slapped. For a moment we’re all frozen in place. Then I step away from Lawrence.
“Brandon—”
He holds up a hand to silence me. “Don’t.”
“Let me explain.”
“No need,” Brandon snaps. Then he says bitterly, “So this is why you’ve been blowing me off. You know, your mom told me you’d been spending a lot of time at the beach, but she thinks you’ve taken a sudden interest in swimming. I guess we’ve both been played.”
Lawrence and I exchange a swift, tense glance. He senses as well as I the potential seriousness of this turn of events. I have to diffuse the situation quickly. Too bad my words have abandoned me.
“This isn’t what you think” is all I can manage.
Brandon sputters. “Spare me, Cass. It’s kind of obvious what’s going on. You know, you could have told me you were dating someone. It’s not like I can’t handle it.”
“I know that.”
“So why didn’t you say something?”
“Look, I don’t owe you every detail of my life, okay?”
“Whatever,” he snorts. “You know, in some ways, I’m glad I saw you with Suspenders here. Now I know everything I need to about you.”
The impulse to tell him off again burns in my throat, but I swallow it. I guess I deserve it. And besides, I need him on my side. He
can’t tell anyone about Lawrence. It’s bad enough that he’s been seen. I don’t even want to think about the ripple effect this all might bring about.
“Brandon, I’m sorry, okay? I never wanted to hurt you. I actually tried to tell you, but—”
“But what?”
When I don’t immediately answer, he holds up a hand. “You know what? Never mind. I know why you didn’t tell me. It’s because you’re a drama queen. You love having secret boyfriends and leading guys on.”
“That’s not—”
“Don’t lie to me, Drama Queen.”
Lawrence takes a tense step forward. His fist is tight at his side. “I’ll ask you only once to speak to Cassandra with more respect.”
Brandon turns to Lawrence, his eyes suddenly bright with rage. “Is that right? And who exactly do you think you are?”
Lawrence’s fierce glare stays locked with Brandon’s.
“Both of you chill out,” I say. I have to get Brandon away. Every second he spends here is dangerous. Every word complicates our situation.
“No, really,” Brandon says. “Who is this guy? I don’t recognize him.”
My stomach tenses, but I force a laugh. “So you know every person in town?”
“Pretty much.” Brandon gives Lawrence a scrutinizing look.
“Trust me,” Lawrence says with irritation, “we don’t know each other.”
“My point exactly. Anyone worth knowing is on my radar.”
“Or perhaps you’re not as popular as you presumed,” Lawrence says.
I shoot him a warning look, but he’s still staring down Brandon.
Brandon’s jaw sets. “You want to come a little closer and say that to my face?”
“Gladly.”
Brandon and Lawrence both step toward each other, and I run in between them.
“Stop it. Both of you.” I turn to Lawrence. “Maybe you should go.”
“I’m not leaving you with this goon. He’s fighting mad.”
Brandon sneers. “Goon? What, are you from the fifties or something?”
“I can handle him,” I say pointedly to Lawrence. We have no other choice.
Lawrence doesn’t respond, but I can tell he’s not happy with me. Finally, he nods once. “Fine. But I’ll check to make sure you’re safe very soon.”
Until We Meet Again Page 18